


We're A Certainty

by asofthaven



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2725430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asofthaven/pseuds/asofthaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nishinoya is a haphazard barista part-time, an unstoppable first-year graduate student the rest of the time, and Ennoshita's a baker with too much on his hands and not nearly enough time for it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're A Certainty

i.  
Fifteen minutes to close, and normally Ennoshita side-eyes anyone who walks into the bakery with thinly veiled hatred, but he freezes at the sight of the person who comes through the door instead. There are bags under his eyes and coffee stains on his t-shirt and the aura of mid-semester exams around him, but Ennoshita remembers him first as a firefigher, soot-covered and in a tank top, yellow jumpsuit tied around his waist.

  
It takes a moment for him to blink the image out of his mind. The Nishinoya in front of him was wearing an apron of the coffeeshop two streets down, a backpack slung thoughtless over one shoulder and a popsicle hanging out of his mouth.

  
( _He still likes cold stuff,_ Ennoshita thinks immediately.)

  
Nishinoya grins at him from the other side of the counter and Ennoshita stares because he _knows_ that smile.

  
(It's the first time that he remembers he ever existed in any other time.)

  
He looks at Nishinoya and remembers firefighters and hospitals, volleyballs and high school, futures with androids and pasts with single-shot rifles, and when he blinks, he's himself, in the present.

  
And instead of being surprised, instead of wondering if he's maybe lost his mind, Ennoshita thinks, _Oh._ That's all, like the profundity of the situation couldn't be summed up in anything other than the sound that startles out of a mouth in surprise.

  
His mouth curls into a sleepy grin.

  
Nishinoya's expression changes then, shrewd and calculating as he comes up to the counter, slapping his hands palm-down on the wood while he stares at Ennoshita. His hair is gelled up, giving him the illusion of height, and Ennoshita remembers that, too.

  
Nishinoya snatches the popsicle out of his mouth a moment later to proclaim, "I've been looking for you!"

  
The silence that falls is as immediate as the flush that works its way alarmingly up Ennoshita's neck. There's surprise from both parties when Ennoshita says, "Nishinoya?"

  
(The name comes naturally, as if it had been waiting at the tip of his tongue for years.)

  
Nishinoya brightens, leaning over the counter to say, "Chikara!"

  
He stays until closing, and Ennoshita just smiles sheepishly when Yaku and Yamaguchi ask in hushed tones who he is. He has no idea how to explain that, while this was the first time they've met, Ennoshita's known him, possibly, forever.

  
"He looks like trouble," Yaku says, and Ennoshita is sure that he's right. But he's kind of _anticipatory_ —he wants to see what trouble Nishinoya is this time around.

  
"I can handle him," Ennoshita replies, shooing away Yaku's doubtful look with a reminder about bus schedules.

  
"Are you sure it'll be okay?" Yamaguchi asks him, lingering in the doorway.

  
"Yeah," he says. He's not sure it'll be okay, but he's not going to say that aloud.

  
(He's never sure if things are going to be okay, but he has this feeling about Nishinoya—something that says things will turn out fine.)

  
"How did you know who I was?" Ennoshita asks, once they're alone and he's locking up the store.

  
Nishinoya glances over. He finished his popsicle a while ago and is chewing the plastic container idly.

  
"The same way you knew me," he says simply.

  
It's absurd, of course—and yet, instead of annoyed or skeptical, Ennoshita feels kind of...certain.

  
(Nishinoya always made him feel certain, cementing Ennoshita’s feet with a wide grin and an aura that told Ennoshita it was silly to doubt himself, silly to worry.)

  
"It was so weird, yanno, cause I walked in and it was just like _wham_ in my chest," Nishinoya comments while Ennoshita heads to his car. He thinks he'll probably have to give Nishinoya a ride, and he's surprisingly okay with it. "I just knew."

  
"Yeah." His breath curls white in the air, but Ennoshita feels very warm, right down to the pit of his stomach and the tips of his fingers where they brush against Nishinoya's. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

 

ii.  
Ennoshita learns that it's not a good idea to put Nishinoya anywhere near freshly baked sweets after Nishinoya stops by during a long break between classes. He nearly clears Ennoshita out of whatever comes out of the oven for the forty minutes that he's there, and continues to do so every time he comes over until Ennoshita starts banning him from eating there. He's older than Nishinoya by one year—

  
(— _maybe next time I'll be the older one_ was Nishinoya's response to that discovery, and Ennoshita huffed out a laugh, _I don't think it really works like that_ —)

  
—and Nishinoya's far more studious than he was before—

  
(— _I’m still convinced the glasses are just for show, though,_ Ennoshita said with a grin, prompting Nishinoya to glare at him over his large black frames, saying _you're mean, Chikara, didja know that_ —)

  
—but Nishinoya is still a hot-headed punk just short of delinquency, still likes to curl up in Ennoshita's lap at inopportune moments and still doesn't understand the concept of personal space. He still seems to hold up the world like he was meant to, like he has a duty to keep things from falling by running headlong into whatever is causing the pain.

  
(Again, Ennoshita thinks _certain_ ; it's a certainty that Nishinoya will be there with a grin and arms ready to push back when the world gets a little too heavy, a little too frantic. _Not today_ he seemed to say, and even if it _was_ today, even if the world proved too much for him, he just rolled his shoulders back and figured he'd do better next time.)

  
(Nishinoya's a certainty, and Ennoshita still isn't sure what that makes him, how he factors into Nishinoya's life when the other boy seems to function perfectly without him.)

  
A jab at his forehead brings Ennoshita out of his musings. They're in the bakery; Nishinoya had been helping him fill doughy shells with marshmallow filling before storing them in the refrigerator for tomorrow morning's baking.

  
"You're thinking too much," Nishinoya says. He's leaning against the counter, propped up on his elbows with his chin resting in his palms. He's grinning.

  
(He always is, even in the lives where it feels like no one should be—Nishinoya was always smiling, and the few times where he wasn't, there was nothing Ennoshita could do to wipe the hardness from his eyes.)

  
He moves so he can squeeze himself between Ennoshita and the counter, presses the tips of his fingers to Ennoshita's forehead. "You're getting wrinkles."

  
"That's better than the bags under your eyes." The end of the semester means end of semester exams, and Nishinoya seems to be surviving solely on willpower and icy drinks with excessive shots of expresso.

  
"What were you thinking about?" Nishinoya asks, ignoring Ennoshita's comment. His hands drop to rest at Ennoshita's hips. Ennoshita's already used to Nishinoya's lack of a personal bubble, but he still can't figure out where to put his hands when they're this close. It feels intimate, this close in the bakery after hours, and Ennoshita can't help but think that it's maybe too soon for that, that he's not quite ready for _intimate_ just yet.

  
(But he will be—or maybe he already is and he's just delaying the inevitable. It's at the back of his mind, his love for Nishinoya, a persistent little tug that started shortly after their first meeting and only became a known thing a short while ago.)

  
(He thinks he's loved Nishinoya in every life and just didn't always realize it.)

  
"I was thinking about us," Ennoshita says eventually, because it's the truth and he isn't able to lie to Nishinoya.

  
"A past us?" Nishinoya asks, interest evident in his voice. Their shared memories are spotty, and sometimes one of them will remember something the other didn't—usually something insignificant, sometimes an entire lifetime.

  
"Yeah," Ennoshita answers because it's less complicated than saying _no, the present us, because you're motion and brightness and stability for me, but I'm not sure what I am for you._

  
"Which one?" Nishinoya asks, a hand disappearing from one of Ennoshita's hips to scrape a spoonful of marshmallow filling out of the bowl.

"Not really one in particular," Ennoshita answers carefully, pushing the bowl closer to the sink. "Just. In general."

  
Nishinoya pulls the spoon out of his mouth, already clear of filling. "You were a director, once."

  
"Really?" Ennoshita asks, not minding the tangent. "That seems kind of showy."

  
(It's not showy, though; he knows the moment the words are out of his mouth. It was stressful and irritating, but so, so rewarding when everything fell into place.)

  
(It wasn't too different from baking, actually.)

  
"You were good at it though," Nishinoya says. Ennoshita feels like he should be discerning something from the heaviness of Nishinoya's gaze, but all he's getting is that the wide intensity of Nishinoya's eyes makes him feel unfairly bare.

  
"You probably said that about everything I did," Ennoshita says. It seems like something Nishinoya would do.

  
"Well, yeah," Nishinoya answers and Ennoshita feels a grin at the predictability. "Because everything you did was good. Everything you do is good, yanno?"

  
Ennoshita feels heat in his ears and thinks, _that was what his eyes were trying to say._

  
He doesn't know how Nishinoya always seems to know what the root of his worries are, but it's almost as unnerving as it is sweet.

  
"Why're you bringing this up?" Ennoshita asks.

  
"I think this time is a lot like then," Nishinoya says, scooping out more marshmallow filling before Ennoshita can stop him. "Cause you thought too much then, too, even though everything you did was great."

  
"I can't really control that," Ennoshita says after a moment. And he wishes he could; it would be nice to not worry all the time.

  
"That's okay," Nishinoya says, arms wrapped loose around Ennoshita's neck, "Just thought I should remind you that you're great, is all."

  
And then he's grinning cheekily again, like he didn't just expose Ennoshita's heart with a few sentences.

 

 

As they walk out of the bakery and into the sweet-smelling night air, Nishinoya asks, "Can I stay at your place?"

  
"Doesn't your roommate worry about you being gone all the time?" Ennoshita asks, fully aware that he's going to let Nishinoya come regardless of the answer.

  
(There's little he can deny Nishinoya in any lifetime.)

  
"Nah, he's cool," Nishinoya says easily, leading the way to the parking lot as if he also knows Ennoshita won't deny him, "Besides, it's easier for me to get my homework done when I'm at your place. Even if you are a tyrant," he adds, sticking his tongue out playfully.

  
"You wouldn't get anything done otherwise," Ennoshita deadpans because it's true. Nishinoya's got another paper to get done and last time he came over, he didn't even try to start writing until midnight. And that was only because Ennoshita had refused to let him into the room until he'd gotten a few thousand words out.

  
Nishinoya slows down so he's walking at the same pace as Ennoshita, "That's why I've got you, right?"

  
He grins up at him, sunny and carefree, and Ennoshita returns it with a sleepy, affectionate smile.

  
(He thinks that waking up to Nishinoya having buried himself under the covers with him is worth the trouble.)

 

iii.  
Ennoshita waits for Nishinoya at the coffeehouse the next day because he thinks that it's probably time to stop acting like he has any control over his heart.

  
Nishinoya stops when he sees him, his eyes wide with surprise. It melts immediately into warmth and Ennoshita leans forward before Nishinoya can even say _Hey!_

  
The second their lips connect, Nishinoya's mouth curls up into a smile and Ennoshita can't help but feel like he's wasted a hundred opportunities to feel that smile against his.

  
"You could have done that sooner, yanno," Nishinoya says when they separate, grin soft and cheeks scattered pink.

  
Ennoshita is sure he looks just as ridiculous. "I know."

  
"You remember that lifetime I told you about?" Nishinoya continues, resting his chin on Ennoshita's chest, "The one where you were a director?"

  
"Yeah...?"

  
Nishinoya's grin curves up into something a little more devilish. "I fell in love with you when I met you, just like I did then."

  
Heat runs up Ennoshita's neck and cheeks at the proclamation. He wants to call bullshit, but it's _Nishinoya_ and while he's prone to hyperbole, he's not prone to lying.

  
"Why?" slips out of Ennoshita's mouth. He kind of hopes that the questions gets lost in the heavy winter air, but that hope is neatly shattered by the Nishinoya's immediate reply.

  
"Whaddaya mean, why?"

  
Ennoshita rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, unable to meet Nishinoya's gaze. His anxieties are on the tip of his tongue, but he can't quite move them past their home there. Nishinoya frowns at him, unusually serious.

  
"Why wouldn't I fall in love with you?" Nishinoya asks. Ennoshita wonders if he's even aware of how intense he looks right now, if Nishinoya knows that he's sometimes overwhelming to be around, "I'm always in love with you."

  
It's so matter-of-fact, so _honest_ ; that Ennoshita is momentarily floored.

  
"Are you embarrassed by anything you do?" he asks, rubbing his hand hard across his face.

  
Nishinoya looks like he's actually considering the question. "Not really," he says, unsurprisingly. But his mouth is pinched in a twist. "Are you?"

  
"...am I what?" Ennoshita asks, not liking the change in tone.

  
"Are you embarrassed by me?"

  
Ennoshita's so startled by the question that he forgets to answer for several seconds. "Of course not," he says, resting their foreheads together. "You're just a lot, sometimes."

  
Nishinoya is pouting now. "Does it bother you?"

  
Ennoshita laughs lightly. "No. I can handle you."

  
(He knows from the warmth in his chest, from the soft edge Nishinoya has when they’re alone. It's an inevitability he learned from a dozen lifetimes—Nishinoya is a lot, but never more than Ennoshita can handle.)

  
Nishinoya's face clears, "Oh, good. I wouldn't want anyone else but you anyways."

  
And even though Ennoshita's face is on fire, he lets Nishinoya tug him down for another sloppy, wonderful kiss. It doesn't even matter that Nishinoya's coworkers are staring at them through the window or that Ennoshita can feel the cold begin to bite at his toes.

  
Nishinoya tastes like artificial cinnamon, and when Ennoshita pulls away, he's told that _he_ tastes like vanilla sweet bread.

  
"I think," Nishinoya says, already leaning up again, his hands at Ennoshita's collar, "I need to try again to be sure."

  
Ennoshita laughs into the next kiss, his hands light on Nishinoya's back.

  
(Maybe it's not that Nishinoya functions perfectly without him—it's more that he functions _endlessly_. Ennoshita is the stillness to Nishinoya's movement, and he may not be sure about much, but Ennoshita thinks it’s a certainty that something in constant motion needs stillness to repair.)

**Author's Note:**

> (I know nothing about baking so idk if storing marshmallow-y stuff in the fridge before baking is at all advisable so uh)
> 
> There isn't enough ennonoya in the world and that hurts me sooooo *throws rarepairs in the air*
> 
> also I have about half a dozen fics in the works so stay tuned I suppose! Thank you for reading :) Comments and critiques always welcome!!


End file.
